


miss lucia's fluff bingo (laurence/ludwig edition)

by dreadfulbeauties



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25480792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadfulbeauties/pseuds/dreadfulbeauties
Summary: Bloodborne is not the fluffiest game in the world, but your resident writer is trying. She just loves this pairing too much for words.
Relationships: Laurence/Ludwig (Bloodborne)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 23





	1. "are you jealous?"

Dust motes float through the sunbeams, illuminating Laurence in the near-empty library. The light sets off the glints of molten-gold in his red hair, circling his spectacles in white as he turns the page. Ludwig sits across from him, listening to his soft voice read aloud — scooping each word up from the book he reads so that Ludwig can hear them. It’s just another afternoon between the two of them. Or rather, it would be if not for the presence of a third party right next to Laurence.

He lifts the kitten’s tail to continue reading. What is it about your presence? Ludwig thinks. What is it about Ludwig stroking his hands over your stripy fur that makes me sit stony-faced across from him? Vivi — for that is the kitten’s name — opens her tiny pink mouth to let out a yawn. Is it because he wishes that he were in the kitten’s place, feeling Laurence’s hand stroking over his hair? Because he’s seen him close his eyes and cradle that little puff ball in his hands far too many times? 

“Scholars speculate that the Old Blood was… Ludwig, are you even paying attention?”

Laurence scratches his fingers between Vivi’s ears, looking up from his tome to stare at Ludwig. _I must not look at that kitten,_ thinks Ludwig, _I must not even think about her._

“—Yes, yes. Keep reading.”

“…You don’t really look as though you’re paying attention, Ludwig. And what’re you staring so intensely at Vivi for?”

“Well, you’ve been doing not much else other than petting her, and I — never mind, it’s nothing, it’s nothing.”

A smile flickers over Laurence’s face. He removes his hand from Vivi’s back.

“Are you _jealous_ of a kitten?”

“No.”

Laurence begins to laugh — loud, bird-like laughing — setting Vivi aside as his glasses rattle in tandem with his wheezing. Ludwig watches his face slowly flush almost as red as his hair and his wide dimpled smile peek through his gloved hands as he tries to wipe tears from his eyes. Then he smacks his head into the book he’s reading.

“Ow.”

“That didn’t hurt too much, did it?”

Laurence shakes his head, then reaches over and up to ruffle Ludwig’s darker hair.

“I can’t believe you’re jealous of Vivi.”

“Why would I be jealous of an animal?”

“Come on, Ludwig. I know you are.”

“Well, maybe a little.”

He leans over the desk, lips touching the edge of Ludwig’s nose in a kiss. He pulls away to cup Ludwig’s face for just a moment, fingertips light on his skin.

“Okay, okay — I can see why you might be jealous of Vivi. Maybe I’ve been showering her with affection. But don’t worry, Ludwig. You don’t have to be.”


	2. "please don't leave me"

He balances Ludwig as they limp their way up the stairs, cheek pressed up against Laurence’s shoulder. There comes that smell again, of bitter alcohol heavy on Ludwig’s breath — a scent that makes Laurence scrunch up his nose and his lips squeeze into a creased line. But for Ludwig it isn’t so.

Warm hands wrap around his shoulders when they near the door to Ludwig’s room, squeezing at sloped shoulders. Ludwig’s nose presses against Laurence’s neck and he leaves a faint kiss just beneath Laurence’s ear. 

“No fair,” he mumbles, “I should be the one carrying _you._ You’re _supposed_ to be carried, Laurence.”

The floorboards squeal in protest beneath Laurence’s boots with each step he takes. With Ludwig it’s like being a part of a painting — the sort with broad, loose brushstrokes and colors that ought not to match up but fit snug as puzzle pieces — where there is a coat of paint on top of the sketch and all is fixed to its place. Even if Ludwig happens to be burping very loudly into his ear.

No confessions tonight, though — it was Laurence who’d awoken with a headache sharp on the brain, and Ludwig who’d let the truth slip out of his mouth the first time. Tonight they will simply rest in their separate rooms, Laurence falling asleep to silence and Ludwig drifting off to the sound of faint buzzing that will morph into next morning’s hangover. Even as he hauls Ludwig into their room, the rambling with words popping out of order continues to flow fluidly out of Ludwig’s mouth.

“You have nice hair,” he says, fingers twisting through a stray strand of Laurence’s hair. “It’s soft and red. Or red and soft, I don’t know which.”

“You can admire my hair more in the morning when you wake up, but for now you need to rest.”

Ludwig’s back hits the bed and he lets go of Laurence’s hair. His eyelids flicker shut, the swell of his chest rises and falls through the heavy robes he wears. It won’t take long before his surroundings fade and he steps into the unconsciousness of sleep, Laurence rising from where he’s seated on the mattress. By the Blood, Laurence thinks, that’s something I haven’t seen in a while, almost since before we founded the Church: You lying fast asleep in bed without the worry lines creasing up your face. He begins to rise from the foot of the bed, off to his own room for sleep—

“Please don’t leave me.”

Ludwig pulls him close, dark hair ticklish against Laurence’s neck. His arms wrap around his waist and he draws him close, shifting his position just a bit so that Laurence’s head can rest soundly between the curve of his shoulder and neck. The candlelight is still on, faint and yellow, in the room.

“Stay for the night?” The words are high and mumbly.

Laurence rests his head. “Of course I can. I’ll stay.”

He falls asleep curled up in Ludwig’s arms, and for a few silent hours all is in its place in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, it's been a while :] but i'm back!
> 
> thank you all for reading this! please take care of yourselves and stay safe.


	3. making out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things get a tad on the risque side in this chapter! nothing particularly graphic, just tongue stuff :] - figured i'd put in a warning, though.

There is a heat to Laurence’s lips as he closes the gap between them. His hands reach up to comb through Ludwig’s dark hair, his spectacles bumping up against the bridge of Ludwig’s nose. He is always the eager one, the one who does not blush or grow soft at the concept of tenderness — like now. There is work to be done, his clothes are soiled with dirt and blood and dust from the Hunt he returned from mere moments earlier. But Ludwig is safe in spite of it all: His wounds have been treated with the Blood, patched up with bandages — for a little while he can slip out of his skin and pretend that the Hunt is only transient.

“I’ve missed you,” says Laurence between heavy kisses. His long red hair has grown unruly, fingertips flushing warm against Ludwig’s skin.

Content, he pulls Laurence closer to him once more. He kisses him: On his nose, on his forehead, on his cheeks, everywhere save for his lips. “I was only away for part of the night, though. We both knew I would return.”

“Yes, but it felt like far longer than just a night and more like eons. I’ve missed you, Ludwig — no more talk, though,” he shifts his position on Ludwig’s lap, slim arms reaching up to sling around his neck, “I just want to feel you.”

He tastes sweet, of spiced tea flavored with a pinch of honey and dripping milk he must have had not long ago. He runs his hands up and down over Laurence’s back — he’s an anchor for Ludwig, the comforting presence of a shadow to shield him when the light beyond grows too bright. He tastes the sweetness of those soft lips of his again, stroking stray hair away from Laurence’s face so as to better hold him and frame his face with his hands. Ludwig’s growing bold in his movements, and he _wants_ Laurence so. 

_Gods,_ Ludwig reminds himself, _You’re so lucky. You’re lucky to have Laurence and he’s lucky to have you, you’re lucky to have someone you can be so close to, someone who you can pass love between back and forth like sharing pieces of bread. He’s sweet, he wants to help others and he’s got so much love in his heart. It’s really a miracle that he has love to spare for you, and reminds you that you deserve to love yourself as well._

For a little while they are body heat and serenity and pulses coming through fingers left on skin but most of all wanting—

“Laurence, I can’t find my — eeewww!”

He stiffens at the sound of the shrill voice. Amelia stands in dove-white nightgown, muted red curls springing free from her braids. She clutches a pillow to her chest, sharp little face scrunched up in disgust.

“What’s the matter, Amelia?” He makes sure his voice comes out stable and gentle.

“I was going to ask Laurence if he could help me because I can’t find Rutherford, and he _knows_ I can’t get to sleep until I’ve got all my toys and Rutherford’s my favorite, but now I’m going to have to find him myself because you’re too busy eating each other’s faces and I never want to see that again.”

“Amelia,” Laurence gets off of Ludwig’s lap, “The next time you need my help at a time like this, maybe knock?”

“The door was open!”

“Oh.”

Quiet — stiff, awkward quiet. Then:

“I’ll help you look for Rutherford.”

“I will, too. Sorry you had to see that, Amelia.” Ludwig smiles sheepishly. He rises from the armchair, reaching down to ruffle Amelia’s hair. “Maybe to make it up to you one of us could read to you? And I can carry you, too, if you want too.”

She smiles up at Ludwig. “Okay.”

He scoops up Amelia in his arms — “My my, you’ve grown so tall!” — and cradles her close, her head coming to rest against a broad shoulder. He knows that there is far more to Yharnam than the well-lit walls of home, that outside there aren’t crackling fires and bedtimes preceded with honey-sweetened tea and stories. But for now Ludwig’s world is small and cozy, so it may as well be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ヽ(；▽；)ノ my headcanon is that amelia is laurence's little sister. there's not really anything in canon to support this, it just sort of happened and i find it creates an interesting dynamic between them. it's a good deal more sad than this bit here would let on (laurence is simultaneously very distant but also very protective of amelia because they grew up under the thumb of an abusive mother), but let's forget about that and enjoy ourselves here, shall we?


	4. huddling for warmth

“Everything hurts and I feel like I’m dying.”

Laurence’s voice is thick, distorted by the phlegm stuck in his throat. He’s sprawled about the bed — were he more of a romantic or dramatic he might languish about, bemoaning the fact that he was unlucky enough to fall ill. But there is no such thing as getting sick gracefully, so Laurence lies awkwardly atop the surface of the bed beneath rumpled sheets, the color drained from his face and watery eyes rimmed red, the silence periodically disturbed by noisy coughing and sniffling.

He lies shivering, twitching intensifying when the rough, woolen surface of a blanket touches him. Ludwig spreads the quilt over him, smoothing out the wrinkles and folds and fluffing up the pillows that his head has made dents in. 

“I’m sorry, Laurence. I can get you more blankets if you need me to, and there’s some tea brewing for you — Amelia helped me brew it before she had to go take a nap. You already took your medicine a few minutes ago, I don’t think you’ll need it for a while.”

Though physically miserable and shivering, Laurence manages a faint smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

He sits up, cupping his hands to his face and coughing into them. “I just feel so _cold_ is all… as though no matter how many blankets are piled onto me or how much wood there is in the fireplace I might freeze to death.”

Indeed, there are goosebumps all across his skin even beneath his pajamas. If he stays in place he obtains the slightest semblance of warmth, but as soon as Laurence changes his position even just a little the chill overcomes him all over again. 

“Here.”

Ludwig slips beneath the bedsheets, mattress squealing in protest underneath the shift in weight. He rolls closer to Laurence, arms slipping over him and pulling him close so that his chest presses up against his back. Broad, gentle hands find their way to cup Laurence’s, lacing between the gaps of his fingers and stroking at the bumps of his knuckles. He starts to shiver a little less, relaxing in Ludwig’s arms.

“That feel any better?”

“It does, but what if you end up sick?”

Ludwig shrugs. “If I get sick, I get sick. At least you won’t be so cold anymore.”

Laurence laughs, creaky and distorted by mucus. “I’d probably shove you off of me if I weren’t so comfortable and if I didn’t like you so much.”

He huddles closer against Ludwig, squeezing his hand back and drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and then ludwig came down with a cold two weeks later. :]
> 
> idk if i have much to say for this one, i've been trying (key word here is "trying") to slow down with the fanfic because i've been much more focused on original writing! i'm glad you're all still trying to bear with me, though ;v;


	5. "i almost lost you"

“Are you sure that—”

“Just trust me on this one, Ludwig.”

It’s a curious thing, Ludwig realizes, to see Amelia have a life after death. He’d gotten a brief glimpse of her, but never would he get to see Laurence’s younger sister grow up and grow old, hair turning white as a result of old age only and skin growing wrinkled and pockmarked. Now he’s guided by a young woman through a brighter Yharnam, clear-eyed and round face adorned with a beaming smile. The sun shines for the first time in a while beyond, the late summer air tinged with coolness of the autumn soon to come.

“We’re almost there!” She calls out over her shoulder. 

The two of them stop in front of the wooden door to a house, a polished brass knocker set in its center. As Ludwig lifts his hand to use it he’s overcome with apprehension. He remembers moments before his world faded he’d called out about his guiding moonlight — _Laurence_ — but is it really him waiting behind this door? How much will have changed since Laurence stepped onto the other side, how can they make the puzzle pieces fit? At the very least they’re both no longer attached to the cages of physical bodies in life — here the broken bits of soul, both beautiful and broken, lie exposed.

The door swings open. Laurence stands in the doorway.

Ludwig swallows. “Laurence, I—”

He gets cut off by Laurence charging over to pull him into a tight embrace. He feels silk-like red hair sliding against his cheek, arms draped in heavy sleeves reaching up to cradle him close. Laurence buries his head in Ludwig’s shoulder, saying nothing even though the heaviness of his breath hints to crying. Ludwig sighs in relief — this is home (of sorts), they are home. They can be ghosts together.

To his surprise, however, it’s Ludwig himself that’s struggling not to cry. Happiness, sorrow, and relief invade his mind all at once.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he says. When he speaks it’s through distorted, choked crying. His grip begins to loosen on Laurence, because he knows if he lets go he will come back.

“So did I.”

Laurence pulls away from Ludwig. He smiles, and it is the sun breaking through the clouds after a long period of rain.

“But I’m happy beyond words that you found me again.”

He half-expects Amelia to let out a cry of “ew” when Laurence pulls him down for a kiss. Yet he never hears it. So Ludwig loses himself to joy and remembers the utter treasure that is holding Laurence in his arms. Laurence is the one who pulls away, cheeks flushed pink and eyes glimmering behind his spectacles.

As Laurence leads him and Amelia inside, he mouths a few simple words through the large smile decorating his face — words that, to Ludwig, are nothing short of music.

“Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like to headcanon that after the absolutely horrible events of their lives and eventual transformations into monsters, that ludwig and laurence found peace and were reunited in the afterlife. not gonna elaborate on this one because i might have an existential crisis contemplating mortality and the possibility of life after death, oop :]
> 
> another headcanon that makes me feel less philosophical is that amelia's natural hair color is red, her hair just started turning white due to her exposure to the old blood. 
> 
> this one turned out a biiiit more angsty but at least it has a happy end.


	6. found out you're secretly a dork

“I thought it was all over.”

“It isn’t. But I never said I don’t want it to end.”

He reaches up to curve his hands against Ludwig’s shoulders, eyelids flickering as he parts his lips and leans in. Laurence has thought about kissing Ludwig before but he’s never been given the chance to. This is it, though, now he can lose himself against Ludwig’s lips and be his—

He gets cut off by laughter instead.

Ludwig’s tilted his head away at the last second, shoulders shaking beneath Laurence’s palms with every giggly breath he takes. Perplexed, Laurence remains awkwardly tilted back in Ludwig’s embrace watching him laugh — this has been a recurring incident for the past several takes: They’ll both lean in eager, the camera highlighting their faces through the black-and-white lens to halo them both in a soft, pale glow, lips parted and eyes closing… before Ludwig doubles over in laughter and they stop.

“Cut!” Gehrman declares sharply. He shakes his head, watching Ludwig steady himself. And really, thinks Laurence, he didn’t think Ludwig of all people would have a problem with this. No, Ludwig looks every part of the dark-haired, chisel-faced lover who would sweep Laurence up in his broad arms and press a hot, ardent kiss to his lips as the music swelled to a crescendo in the background. He’d been secretly hoping for that this whole time, actually. But instead he finds Ludwig giggling every time the gap between them’s about to close.

Maria sighs, tightly-waved white curls rustling against her face. “Ludwig, you’ve been doing lovely for every take up till the big kiss — what’s troubling you?”

“Gods damn it, I _can’t,_ ” Ludwig manages between giggles, “It’s too humiliating!”

Gehrman shakes his head. “Well, what are we going to do about this? He’s going to have to pucker up sooner or later—”

“Gehrman?” Laurence flicks a curtain of red hair away from his face. “I think I know what the trouble is.”

“Laurence, I don’t know how to tell you that you’re not the one directing this film.”

“Gehrman. I _know_ Ludwig — a little better now, in fact, than I thought I did. I think I know what the trouble is. Let me take him aside and speak to him.”

He grunts, peeved, but relents. “Alright. Make it fast, though.”

Laurence takes Ludwig by the hand and pulls him off the set. He has to squat a little so that his gaze is level with Laurence, who is a few heads shorter than him. His face is tinged pink from his blushing. But Laurence remains unruffled, reaching up to cup Ludwig by the cheeks and ask, “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Ludwig says softly. His eyes flicker downwards, lips pressing into a light frown.

“You haven’t?”

“No. You know this is my first film, and I didn’t have to kiss anyone during my screen test.”

He thinks about his own first kiss — rough lips bumping against soft and catching flaky skin, of someone’s tongue poking around blindly in his wet mouth, the clicking of teeth and wincing. Then he pulls himself back towards reality, to pensive Ludwig standing over him.

“It’s alright. My first kiss was awkward, too. You’re not the only one.”

* * *

“I thought it was all over.”

“It isn’t. But I never said I don’t want it to end.”

And, Laurence thinks to himself as he draws Ludwig close and closes the gap between them, parting his mouth open and tilting his position so that he fits in Ludwig’s broad arms, he _doesn’t_ want it to end. Ludwig fumbles in his mouth, but he likes it — because it’s _Ludwig,_ and not anyone else.

“Cut! Much better.”

They make their way off set, but neither make it out of the room before Ludwig sweeps Laurence into his arms and delivers him another messily indulgent kiss.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is from an au i have where laurence and ludwig are actors in yharnam's film industry! think like... old movies, i guess :] around 30s-40s, because it's my fanfic and i get to stuff in as many hyperfixations as i'd like.

**Author's Note:**

> ...ludwig is just a big cat confirmed.
> 
> i got inspired by this one scene from the 1947 film "magic town" which features jimmy stewart and a kitten. context was quite different but i thought the whole presence of a kitty would sweeten the fic - as if it's not tooth-crumbling fluffy enough, i mean, this is a fluff bingo, after all :]
> 
> i've always thought that laurence would be a cat person. i'm certain at least one person out there thinks the same.
> 
> thank you for reading. take care of yourselves and stay safe <3


End file.
